


Starlight

by UnlikelyWriters



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, One Shot, Stargazing, post-Not the End of the World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 02:38:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19736662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnlikelyWriters/pseuds/UnlikelyWriters
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley watch the stars after the world didn't end.





	Starlight

The roof of a flat, a blanket, several bottles of wine, and two beings that once had grace but the amount they owned currently should be under serious questioning.

This was how Crowley and Aziraphale had spent more than a few nights together after stopping Armageddon. It had started the first night after the world hadn't ended, when they both drank solidly into the night in celebration. It was one of their ideas (although you would be hard pressed to figure out which one) to climb up onto Crowley's roof and look up at the stars. Now, this was a perfectly normal experience to have when you were human. When you were these two, it took more of a bittersweet turn. This was how it started: an angel, a demon, a bottle of wine, and a drunken climb to the top of a roof. They had laid down on the roof, passing the bottle between them, and looked up at the sky. It was the first time since the world didn't end that they had fallen silent.

After some time, the silence between them had broken. Crowley pointed a single, thin, finger up at a faint dot in the sky and muttered, "That was one of mine."

Aziraphale stared at the dot for a moment, before stating in awe, "It's lovely."

The night continued on much like that, Crowley pointing at stars and nebulas and celestial bodies, and Aziraphale commenting on how lovely they looked, even being so bold to say that he would like to visit one at some point.

* * *

The days went on, and the not end of the world slowly crept further and further away. Children went to school, witches and certain witchfinders found themselves in a strange, new, prophecy-less world. A certain angel and demon, well, kept taking each day as they had before.

Except they didn't.

You see, things were different now. Things were _new_. Their own respective higher-ups had kept a safe distance from them, and they slowly came to the realization that there was no longer a dance they had to do. There weren't any steps that needed to be taken anymore just to have lunch.

They found themselves falling into these old routines, though. You can't just go to a certain bookstore to see your friend, you had to be driving through Soho, come up with some mischievous plan, and then come knocking on the angel's door because there were wiles that needed to be thwarted.

Likewise, you can't just ask your friend to lunch at a new restaurant that supposedly is rubbish but you have had your eye on, because _he_ has to do the tempting, you simply suggest the place in the universe where the temptation should take place.

Except, you can.

* * *

The first time they had a night like this and started it sober, the tension could be felt until they were too plastered to even care. At that point, the entire mission of the night had been forgotten and it had ended with a certain demon showing off his terrible disco skills.

The second time, they were on slightly more familiar ground. By the time they had gotten up to the roof of Crowley's flat (it's a better place, they say, less light pollution, and neither one brings up the fact that they both are very capable of doing away with all light pollution until the were done looking at the stars), and by the time they had gotten to the roof, a blanket and bottle of wine had been miracled. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was a start.

This night, this night in particular, they had done this enough times where they had developed a routine. One (or the other) would call, or simply show up at their door, and they would talk until evening came, and then they would climb up to the roof. You would expect them to be bitter about looking up at the stars, a harsh reminder of a place neither of them could go back to, but they loved it. Because it was _theirs._ The stars weren't where Heaven was, there was no point where the universe stopped and Heaven began. Likewise, there was no place where the universe stopped and hell began. They were entirely different places, and after all, the stars were Her creation as well.

At least, most of them.

Crowley watched the stars thoughtfully. He and Aziraphale had already opened the bottle of wine, and passed it between the two of them a few times. 

"The stars look beautiful tonight," Aziraphale murmured.

"They look like they do every night."

A huff, and a halfhearted swat in the demon's direction. "You know what I mean, they look... brighter."

A laugh, and the demon's attention was no longer on the stars, "What, you think they're glowing extra bright tonight, just for us?"

"Well, I don't know. Maybe it's something to do with the... lights, maybe there's less lights on tonight."

"You know the humans don't like to break their habits, angel."

Now it could be said that it was possible one of them had miracled the stars to look brighter, to appear clearer tonight, but you would get a lie regardless of which one you asked if they did it.

Silence fell over them again. But this time, it was comfortable. The antsy nerves and the dance they shared had melted away many nights ago. They had this, and no one could touch it, and that was enough.

"Would you go back? If you ever had the chance."

A harsh, surprised laugh escaped Crowley as he tried to not let the way he tensed show. "You mean to Heaven? The very same one that damned me for simply asking questions?"

"Oh Crowley, I didn't mean it like that-"

"I know what you meant." Again, silence fell, but there was an air of tension between them, a certain way that Crowley was controlling his breaths to make them seem normal, and calm. Finally, in a whisper that could have been the wind, it was said. "I do miss it."

"I know." Then, there was something new, a barrier neither of them had dared to cross yet, and yet in one small motion that wall crumbled beneath them.

A manicured hand reaching to take another one before it could slither away.

Crowley looked over at the angel, his sunglasses long forgotten. He had stopped wearing them around the angel. What was the point anymore? "Would you?"

There was a pause, a slight hesitation, before he confidently said, "No, I don't think I would." Another pause, but it was broken before that same silence could come rushing in. "I've got everything I need here." There was nothing left for him there, but if there had been, it wouldn't have changed a thing.

"Me too."

And then, another barrier, a larger one than the first. A head resting on a shoulder, hands intertwined, as the beings who both once had grace stared up at the stars. One of them had forged them, and the other had watched them in the night sky. But that was a long, long time ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this, and hopefully I'll write some more Ineffable Husbands in the future!


End file.
